Swan Song
by YellyBelly
Summary: His stomach churned as he heard the loud blaring of the dial tone in his ear. He grabbed his coat, and the keys to the Range Rover, before sprinting out the door. He knew something was dreadfully wrong. She needed him.


A/N: This came to me around Thanksgiving time. For whatever reason I wasn't pleased with it, and decided not to post it. This piece is straying away from my usual genre, so it was a little unnerving to post. Please be kind and review, I appreciate constructive criticism, adore compliments, and ask you to please refrain from flames. :)

To everyone who is following "Moving On", that is temporarily on hold, due to my horrendous writer's block. Although, I'm debating whether or not to leave well enough alone, and let chapter ten be the conclusion… Without further ado, enjoy:

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to The O.C. It all belongs to the brilliant Josh Schwartz. The only things that are mine are my Adam Brody posters and all of the soundtracks!

She stumbled into the dark room, and awkwardly searched around for the light switch with her hand. Once discovering it, she flicked the lights on, and winced as the brightness made her head spin. Quickly she turned the lights off, and closed the door to her bedroom behind her. Moving through the dark space, her eyes adjusted and she made her way over to her bed. She wearily climbed into it, pulling the blankets over her in the process. Just as she was about to close her eyes, her mother banged on the door. She moaned in agony and pulled a pillow over her head.

"Mariss…honey is that you?" Julie screeched.

Marissa decided to ignore her mother's calls, and attempted to get some rest. She knew that if she remained quiet--there were only two possible outcomes. Either Julie would eventually give up and walk away, or she would call Caleb to unlock her door. After a few more knocks on the door, Marissa was sure that her head was going to explode. She had come from a crazy out-of-hand party at Holly's house. She wasn't accustomed to the atmosphere, since she hadn't been to a rager in almost two years--ever since Ryan had come along. Ryan. He was the reason Marissa was miserable, the reason that Marissa was drowning her sorrows in alcohol, and hooking up with practically every guy who looked her over, including the hot, Mexican gardener. No, she wasn't on the rebound, or even looking for a new love. She wanted Ryan back, _desperately_. He was gone, and Marissa had very little hope that he would ever come back to her.

What had she done to deserve this? Realizing that sleep would never overcome her with the thoughts she was having, Marissa aroused herself from bed. She switched on the bedside lamp, and walked over to her nearby dresser. Ever since the tragic night with Trey, she had been having nightmares, disturbing ones, that had driven her to the point of waking up in a pool of sweat, or screaming for help in the wake of the night. Ryan had been so distant after the shooting. He refused to return her calls, barely said a word to her when they were face to face, and never once did he dare look her in the eye. Pulling open her dresser, Marissa fished through it for a familiar box. It contained all of the remedies she needed to forget her troubles. It even provided her with a few hours sleep, occasionally. She sat down on the edge of her bed, and pulled a key that was attached to a chain from her blouse. The chain was kept securely around her neck. As Marissa unlocked the small box which rested on her bed, she knew she was making a mistake. Summer had been noticing the strange behavior of her best friend, and was becoming increasingly concerned. She heard the small click, and realized that the box was now unlocked. Slowly she lifted it open and one by one took out the contents. First a sharp razor, then a bottle of rubbing alcohol, which was followed by a cloth. Rolling up her long-sleeved shirt, which was rather convenient for hiding her scars, she began to dab a drop of rubbing alcohol onto her arm. Realizing how useless it was to sanitize her arm, in the circumstance which she was in, Marissa put down the antiseptic and made a small incision across the surface of her skin. She bit down on her tongue as hard as she could, fighting the urge to scream. It was a routine that she had become accustomed to. A burning sensation washed over her, as the sharp metal cut deeper into her delicate arm. As Marissa bit down on her tongue, she felt a trickle of warm blood escape from her mouth, and she recognized that she was bleeding. Once the throbbing died down some, Marissa wrapped a piece of cloth around arm, and pulled her sleeve back over her bare skin. For some inexplicable reason, the pain of the razor erased her memory of Trey--for a few minutes at best. However, she felt having a little relief was better than none at all. If Ryan had known how she was dealing with her grief, he would be beyond himself. He hated it when she drank, and she had tried to sober up, for his sake. Now that Ryan ignored her and no longer wished to be a part of her life, Marissa saw no reason for hiding her true colors. It was the only way she knew how to deal with life.

How did everyone expect her to survive living in the Haunted Mansion with the gruesome twosome, without expressing her grief somehow? No one seemed to understand her anymore…at one point she was sure that Ryan knew her better than anyone else. Yet how could that possibly be true, when he didn't even acknowledge her existence? _"Who are you?" "Whoever you want me to be…" _ She wanted him to be her lover, her protector, her safety net from all things Newport. She wanted her best friend back, but most of all, she wanted someone who shielded her from the harsh realities of the world. A wave of depression washed over her suddenly, and Marissa felt trapped. There was no way out for her… or was there? Frantically reaching through her treasured box, she grabbed a bottle of Vodka. She had snatched it from Caleb's bar, and knew that it was expensive and he would be looking for it. Her hand trembled as she pulled out a bottle of assorted painkillers. Marissa had found it in Summer's medicine cabinet, and knew it was her step-monster's. Her entire body shook violently as she unscrewed the caps of both the alcohol and the pills. Pouring a handful of colorful capsules into the palm of her quivering hand, she shoved them into her mouth. Quickly, before she had a chance to back out and change her mind, she took a long swig of the Vodka. Marissa choked as she attempted to swallow the mouthful of drugs, and her hand flew to her throat, as she felt them come back up. Forcing herself to swallow, her eyes burned with tears, as the alcohol seared her raw throat. When she finally found the courage to open her eyes, Marissa knew that the only way to save herself was to throw them up immediately. She contemplated calling her mother for help, then decided against it. What did she have to live her? What kind of future did she have without Ryan? Without her father? Would anyone even miss her if she was gone? She knew that Summer would…and it broke her heart to have to leave her best friend. Immediately, Marissa dialed Summer's cell phone number, it was second nature to her, after all. Her voicemail instantly picked up: "_This is Summer, obviously. I'm either screening or I'm not here. Leave me a message…" _Somehow Marissa found it in her to giggle at her friend's saucy comments. She trembled as she thought of how much she would miss them, how much Summer would despise her for leaving, and how no one else would understand the predicament she was in. Drowsiness took over her, and Marissa knew that if she wanted to say goodbye to Ryan, she would have to do it quickly. She dialed his number, praying that he would answer the phone. After two rings, he picked up, his gruff voice sounding like music to Marissa's ears.

"Hey," she whispered softly. "It's _me."_

"Marissa…are you all right?" Ryan asked, concern evident in his voice. His thoughts were immediately filled with worry, as she was calling so late at night.

"I wanted to tell you for the last time," Marissa began, tears instantly falling down her face. "I am so sorry, for everything. I hope you know how much I love you. Please don't think I am selfish…and let Summer know how much I love her. Explain to Seth, why I have to go…make sure Kirsten and Sandy know how much I appreciated them. You're going to do great things in your life Ryan Atwood, make me proud…" her voice slowly faded, and then dropped off.

She gradually lost consciousness, and drifted off to sleep. The pain subsided, and her fears and worries were washed away. Marissa felt herself slipping away, there was no turning back. She didn't have the strength to scream for help. Instead, she prayed to God. She couldn't remember the last time she had stepped foot inside of a Church. Yet all she could think of was how badly she wanted--no needed, God's forgiveness. As if He were answering her prayer, Marissa suddenly felt at peace. She fought to open her eyes, and as she managed to do so, her gaze landed on a picture of Ryan and herself at the Cotillion. She smiled weakly, and then closed her eyes for the final time, finally feeling free.

Ryan's stomach churned as he heard the loud blaring of the dial tone in his ear. He grabbed his coat, and the keys to the Range Rover, before sprinting out the door. He knew something was dreadfully wrong. Marissa needed him.

As he approached the Cooper-Nichol Mansion, his eyes were bombarded with vibrant flashing lights. It was not until he drew closer that he realized the lights belonged to an ambulance. He felt a lump grow in his throat. Ryan pulled into the long and winding driveway, and as he drove nearer, he noticed the Paramedics carrying someone on a stretcher. His heart lurched, and he jumped out of the car. Julie stood nearby, screaming frantically. Caleb was situated next to his wife, a grim look encompassing his face. Ryan grabbed Julie by the shoulders, and shook her wildly. She continued sobbing and crumpled into his arms. Caleb simply looked at the ground, and shut his eyes tightly.

"_What? What is it?"_ Ryan asked, hoarsely.

"She-" Julie attempted to answer him, however she was too emotional to be coherent.

Ryan glanced at the stretcher and his heart sunk. He felt like he had been kicked in the stomach, as if the air had been knocked out of him. He was unable to support Julie's weight, when he himself could hardly stand. Caleb noticed this, and pulled his wife to him, somewhat stabilizing Ryan's stance.

"Is she…?" came Ryan's voice. His tone was squeaky and high-pitched, as he attempted to swallow his constantly growing sense of fear.

Julie nodded her head, and fell back into her fit of hysteria. As Ryan slowly absorbed the news that he had feared the most, he took one last glance at the stretcher. The woman he had loved more than anything else, was on it…covered in a white blanket, so that her body was not visible. Hot tears pricked his eyes, and he struggled to keep them from falling. Ryan closed his eyes for a moment, praying that it was all some horrible nightmare. As he opened them, he was overcome by a flashback. Her beautiful angelic face appeared before him, as she uttered the words: "_Who are you?" _Ryan gasped at the memory, and silently responded: _"Whoever you want me to be, Marissa Cooper."_


End file.
